That Summer
by Elliewrites
Summary: Takes place after Paris. Andy stays. More Mirandy.
1. Chapter 1

Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

Hi guys, Happy New Year to all. I'm a bit lost on my other story so here is what will probably be a two - shot. Everyone here inspires me to write and contribute so thank you to the wonderful writers in this universe. Let's all work together to enjoy much more DWP in 2014! and Whoa - Just edited b/c I realized I uploaded somehow without my first paragraph. Odd...

_My life is a freaking nightmare. Wait. No. That's not actually true. What am I saying? My life is great. I'm healthy. I'm happy. I have friends. No. Fuck. Wait. Ugh…_ I paused at the top of the stairs, shaking my head in disbelief at the constant inner rant that had become commonplace on these late nights. I opened the door and walked into the Townhouse with the Book, and to no surprise of my own my palms began to sweat. "Andrea" I heard a distant voice summoning me from somewhere down the hall. My muscles tensed, and a common feeling of panic arose through my stomach. _Yep, nightmare. I was right. My life is an absolute freaking nightmare._

Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of Runway Magazine, Publishing Empress, La Priestly, and Devil in Prada herself was cuddled in her arm chair in the corner of the sitting room. I hesitated all too long in the doorway taking a mental picture of her reading the New Yorker, feet curled up underneath her, with a half empty glass of wine by her side. I would store that image for later, where it would undoubtedly appear a few hours from now in a dream with what would be an entirely different outcome.

It takes every bit of my recently practiced self-restraint to keep from heading towards the chair to curl up next to Miranda. My brain of course knows such a course is a path towards at the least professional suicide, and the more likely death but my body seems compelled to get closer. I take a few steps forward, hand over the book to a seemingly distant Miranda, and step back to await further instruction. _God she's beautiful_, I say to myself as she finally looks up to acknowledge me. _Do you want me to take you upstairs and tuck you in_, I want to say as she still remains quietly studying me. _Can she read my mind? Please read my mind and say yes and don't kill me_. _Oh no she's looking at me like I'm crazy, say something Andy, speak, I tell myself._ "Anything else I can do for you, Miranda?" She looks at me like this is the worst thing I could have said. She's angry now, I made her angry. Fantastic. She dismisses me like the idiot that I am, and I turn on my heels to leave. I will beat myself up for the rest of my walk home with her last words lingering in my mind. "That's all."

This can't continue. Ever since Nate left, it seems my attraction to Miranda is growing. At first I didn't understand it. Then I denied it. Now I'm finally accepting it for what it is. This woman has me under her spell. I can't get away from her. I know. I tried. It was short lived and it felt like it would kill me. That's when I knew this was not just about the job. It was about her. I have to have her. It's crazy. It makes no sense. She's twice my age. She's out of my league. She's my boss. She's a woman. I like women? She's everything.

It is becoming an overwhelming distraction. Being alone in the same room as Miranda is almost torturous. Being away from her is even worse. This is a new experience being needy. It's an emotional rollercoaster and it's a rush. I love control. I thrive on control. I've lost control. I have laser focus to do my job but it is consistent with this desire I have to please Miranda. I want to be the best for her. I want her to have the best. I want to be recoginized. I want to be needed. I want her to need me. I want her to want me. I want her.

It was odd how this developed. Have I always been a people pleaser? I like the people around me to share in my happiness, but this is somehow different. Miranda is the ultimate challenge. This woman rarely shows her true self to the outside world. She trusts no one. She builds walls. She keeps people out. She has to protect herself. I saw a glimpse of the heart that I want to carefully to help protect, and now I have to have it. When I saw it for the first time in Paris my heart broke in half, and then put itself back together with an empty slot that needs to be filled. It knows what it's missing. Miranda has changed me. This is going to be a disaster.

I need to separate myself from this. Distance maybe would help lessen the pull. It's like gravity though, and sometimes it just seems silly to try to fight it. I'm good at bringing Miranda happiness. She should see that. She does see it. She looks at me differently when I rise beyond her expectations. I've seen how I can shock her. She can hide these things from others but not for me. Sometimes I can tell she almost thinks I'm clairvoyant when it comes to her. I know what she wants before she wants it herself. She sees it.

I'm not crazy. Well, I may be crazy but sometimes it seems Miranda acts differently towards me. At some point after Paris she stopped insulting me. I mean, she still insults me but hardly to hurt me. It is almost a game now where she wants to be harsh, but somehow backs off at the last minute. Sometimes I wonder if she is afraid to lose me. I'm just another silly assistant, but then other times she treats me with kid gloves, almost like Nigel. Oh, and Nigel. What she did to him? She had to though. It was her job. She made the right choice. I made the right choice. Miranda deserves loyalty. I will be loyal. It is my goal to show her she can trust that I will be loyal. I slipped up briefly, but I will not make that mistake again.

*************************** Some weeks later, late in August after Paris…

Miranda left last night for a long weekend in the Hamptons. Today has been a very, very long Thursday and I'm compelled to check my cell phone every few minutes to make sure it's working while awaiting the book. I haven't received any messages or calls from Miranda since early this morning so I check my phone again. It's still working.

The new girl, otherwise known as Emily, left for the evening two hours ago. Once the Book is finished, I just need to send it with Roy up to the Hamptons, and then I can go home and sleep. I hope Miranda is having a nice time with the girls, and take a moment to think about what they would be doing right this moment. This was one of her few days totally free with them up there.

Miranda was leaving Runway behind for a few days, but she was not leaving work behind. This Saturday Miranda was entertaining the A-list at one of her infamous house parties. Many thought Miranda to be social, but it was all an act. Her house would undoubtedly be the place to be on Saturday evening, but Miranda would have preferred a quiet night alone with her girls.

Miranda's ringtone woke me from my day dreams. "Andrea," I could hear the frustration in the voice through the phone. "The girls Nanny no longer works for me. Have Roy stop by your house so you can pack a bag and he will deliver you here for the weekend." I was momentarily stunned by the news. Having Miranda gone for four days was going to be rough, but I welcomed the separation to try to cool off for a while. The idea of being alone, even with two children, at a beach house with the women was overwhelming, but fucking fantastic. There was no room for argument either. Miranda had all but demanded my presence.

"Miranda, uhhh, I," I was cut off a second later mid thought. "Andrea, that was not a question. Half of Hollywood will be at my house Saturday evening, and I should have had you with me in the first place." Again, I'm stunned by the admission from the Editor that she had made a mistake, and admitted that she needed me in the first place. With a deep breath and my eyes closed I manage to reply, "of course, Miranda," with as steady a voice as I can manage despite the adrenalyn coursing through my veins. I listen for further instructions without questioning my queen and they follow moments later. "The girls will be to bed early on Saturday, so grab something from the closet appropriate for the gathering. That's all."

I put my head down on my arms for a fleeting second contemplating the level of panic I should allow myself before getting up and running towards the closet. Nigel already left for the evening, but would likely attend the party on Saturday as well having his own opportunity to assess my wardrobe selections. While my sense of style has grown by leaps and bounds, this would be the first time I'm left entirely to my own devices while choosing something for such a unique situation. _Ahhh…Please let me choose wisely. _

Hours later I awoke to the sounds of the Towncar slowing on a gravel driveway while pulling up to Miranda's Southampton house at 11pm. The ride from Manhattan had taken two hours as even late at night there was still enough traffic. I thanked Roy, my rock, and took my laptop bag, leather duffel, and a garment bag from the back seat, managing to hug the Book with my remaining hand. Fighting nerves and frustration, I assure Roy I can manage everything myself, and walk towards the front door to meet my fate. As if on cue, Miranda opens the door as I near the last step, and seeing her in yoga pants and minimal makeup I can barely remember how to breathe. I'm overwhelmed by emotions, and try to cover them up by looking past her. As if there to save me from myself an excited Patricia runs to me and practically knocks me back down the steps. Miranda is forced to reach out and grab my arm with one hand, and the dog with the other, pulling us both inside. Dropping my bags on the floor and depositing the book in Miranda's hands I throw all of my emotions around the big dog's neck and give her a huge hug to which she responds enthusiastically. I stay there fully ignoring Miranda until I get my emotions back in check, and finally stand to meet my fate.

I've studied Miranda's many expressions over the past months, but the one I'm met with is new. I swear that I see a moment of relief appear on Miranda's face as our eyes finally meet. Then it was gone and the Editor appeared again, and I gave her a muted, "Hi Miranda," to which she replied similarly and with a, "welcome, Andrea. I doubt you woke the entire neighborhood on your way in." Yes my Miranda, she had to throw in the sarcasm.

Miranda's house was all white, with open windows towards the ocean on the entire back wall. It was dark now, but I spent a moment imagining what we would see in the morning. This is the first time I will see the Atlantic Ocean. Miranda's watching me carefully, but I cannot help but take in my surroundings. I swear upon glancing sideways to compliment her house that the corners of her mouth to tilt upwards into a smile of satisfaction before she replies, "Andrea thank you for coming. Follow me and I'll show you where you are staying."

I must have dreamed that I heard a "thank you." I'm led upstairs to the East wing of the house. Apparently Miranda's Master Suite is in the West wing, and the girls bedrooms are on that side as well. As Miranda opens the door to my room, I'm overwhelmed once again. The room was made for a princess. This ensuite guest room was bigger than her entire apartment in the city, plus some, with again more windows surrounding it. Clearly I will have an ocean view in the morning. I want to turn around and hug Miranda, but that would be inappropriate.

I cannot help but whisper to myself, "wow, this is amazing." I drop my bags once again and walk towards the wall of windows whispering, "I can't wait for sunrise," looking outside before turning back to Miranda who is still standing in the doorway watching.

"Andrea," Miranda says looking down and fidgeting with the bracelets on her arm. "The girls will undoubtedly wake up early tomorrow morning. They know you are here and are eagerly waiting to show you around. You've made some impression on them apparently." I am surprised to hear this, but the girls and I have spent many a late night talking when I deliver the book or fill in as a babysitter. They almost feel like cousins or something, since they're the only kids I've met or spent time with in Manhattan. I nod enthusiastically.

"It's beautiful here Miranda. We'll have a great weekend I'm sure. Did you have anything specific you wanted them to do?" I patiently await the answer noticing Runway Miranda appear for the first time this evening. "Andrea, I'm spending the weekend with my girls. You will only be needed part of the time. I have a lunch tomorrow that I must attend, and then the party Saturday evening where my time will be fully occupied with the guests. I would however like you to help supervise the setup for the party. There will be many strangers in the house over the next forty eight hours, and I would feel more comfortable having someone I trust here during that time."

I am speechless once again. Miranda just admitted out loud that she trusted someone, at least not to steal from her, and that someone was me. She's killing me. She walked back towards the doorway. "Of course, Miranda," I say while my heart being stabbed by hearing the word trust and me in the same sentence and I cannot stop it. "Looking forward to it."

I'm left with nothing else left to say but she's still staring at me from the doorway. "I'll uh…see you in the morning" I continue, _unless you want to stay with me tonight_, I'm thinking and close my eyes trying to shake off the thought.

"Andrea, the code for the alarm is 0408. Do not open the doors without turning the alarm off. Otherwise, make yourself at home." I nod choosing not to look at her again, before finally hearing her words and looking up. "Oh, the girl's birthday? No problem, I can remember that. Good night Miranda." I shouldn't have looked up. Miranda is staring at me once again with another look that I'm failing to recognize. I used to be good that this. Ending the silence she looks down at her bracelets once again saying, "Yes, well, good night Andrea," and I smile at her because I cannot help it, and raising her eyes to meet mine she offers more. "Sleep well," she says and I just nod. She closes the door as she leaves, and I realize sleep will not come quickly this evening.

The next morning at 5:30, I'm up early enough to get dressed in time to watch the sun rise. I slept a bit in the car on the way to the Hamptons so I'll be fine to keep up with the kids all day. I pull on my nike sports bra, shorts, and Brooks on my feet and make my way downstairs to grab Patricia before going for a tour of the neighborhood. The exercise should help get rid of some of the adrenelyn that possesses me from being around Miranda all day.

An hour later after having given Patricia an impromptu bath in the outdoor shower to remove the sand from her fur, I find Miranda, coffee in hand with the book in the living room. I hadn't considered Miranda's possible objections to borrowing her dog, and hesitate before approaching the Editor. I cringe as a slightly damp Patricia runs to greet her owner, but after two pets on the head and a big kiss Miranda calls out without looking, "Andrea, I prepped the espresso machine. Press the button and voila – coffee…" I press the button, find warm milk beside the machine, and moments later attempt to remain as relaxed as possible as if spending the weekend with Miranda in the Hamptons is totally normal. I sit on the edge of an ottoman overlooking the ocean trying to keep my dirty sweaty self off of the furniture, and sip at the coffee while admiring the view.

"When the girls wake up I'm making pancakes. I assume you eat pancakes." I looked up to catch Miranda with a mischievous look on her face, and smiled back at her fighting the urge to roll my eyes. At that moment I recognize that in this setting I will once again get to see the woman behind the curtain. This Miranda was my Miranda, who I had met briefly in Paris and a few other times when I'm lucky and she lets her guard down. "Yes, I eat pancakes. Or at least I used to, often," I dared say the next line, "prior to making your acquaintance." I smile back again with as much confidence as I can muster just hoping Miranda's mood would remain light. I literally feel the air shift as Miranda looks me up and down in my running attire. Her gaze sweeps from head to toe and back up before she finally responds, "yes, I would imagine so." I swallow hard at her voice which sounds so sultry right now as she just woke up, and at the look I just got, and I quickly chug my coffee and excuse myself to go shower.

Despite the emotional rollercoaster, I cannot imagine that my weekend would have been more fun had had I remained back in the city. The girls were surprisingly thrilled to have me here, and together we spent Friday and early Saturday basking in the glory of all Southampton had to offer. They seemed to indicate that their mother was easier to handle when they had me there as a buffer. I was getting all too close, but couldn't help myself. This was starting to feel more like a family vacation than work, and that's the road to pure disaster. But of course once again good decision making goes out the door and together we make the most of the last few days of summer in the sun, and I live in the moment.

By the time the party rolled around Saturday evening, I was fully immersed in the fantasy of being part of this world. I spent the day directing the staff, making sure every detailed request was met with perfection, while Miranda spent time with the girls. There were a few minor disasters along the way but Miranda would never hear of them, that I made certain. The party began around five, and Miranda had decided it was inappropriate for the girls to join in as they were still pre-teens. Borrowing Miranda's car, I gathered the twins to head out for a pizza and movie before the crowds arrived. Miranda tried to object but she was overruled by two redheads with big mouths and cute smiles, and starting to feel more comfortable with my role joined in with my puppy eyes as well to seal the deal. When we arrived back at the house the valets took our car and shockingly enough the girls were cooperative about going to bed. They encouraged me to go get dressed and join the party, promising that they would be watching from the windows and staying out of harm's way. They knew the drill, and while they were often invited to the daytime gatherings this party was off limits. Their mother had made that very clear.

The party was in full swing by the time I officially arrived on the pool deck. I spent extra time on my makeup and hair to complete my look. Only moments later Miranda scared the hell out of me as she handed me a glass of champagne directing me already. "Take this, walk with me…" she said and of course I followed ready for just about anything as I was well trained at this point.

Moments later after gulping a significant portion of the champagne en route, I was being introduced by Miranda Priestly to both David Remnick and Graydon Carter before even realizing who she was talking to. Completely shocked by the company I was in I did my best to remember that English was in fact my first language and remind myself that I normally knew how to form sentences consisting of more than one word. The men had Miranda's full attention as was standard for anyone she approached and I did my best to smile and nod. Miranda proceeded to give me a glowing introduction to the two editors, leaving me all but speechless once again. She mentioned my latest promotion to First Assistant, the fact that I graduated from Northwestern, _how did she know that_, and shocked the hell out of me when she brought up that I was even Editor of the Daily Northwestern. Miranda then promptly took her leave wishing all of us a nice evening, and giving me a look that clearly meant, "don't fuck this up."

Hours later, while helping with the cleanup I was struggling to recall what had transpired over the course of the evening. Fortunately, I did not feel the need to drown myself in the pool, so I figured that I did in fact represent Miranda respectably. It was surreal. I was socializing with people like David and Graydon and countless other people who could have a tremendous impact on the course of my career. This was a privilege many would never have, being in such close quarters with greatly influential people. With a content smile I acknowledged the fact that it was very possible Miranda had a vested interest in my future, and that my presence in the Hamptons this weekend was not happenstance. I was once again being exposed to the woman behind the Icon, who as my heart confirmed was deserving of every bit of happiness that I wanted for her.

The party wound down around 1am. It was an early night by Southampton standards, but the gathering had begun in the late afternoon so in fact it was a very long evening. By the time the last guest left, and the cleanup had begun, I was fully sober and once again in charge. When I found Miranda she was directing the staff to make haste, as it was getting late. She seemed tired despite her efforts to lift her chin and become even more vocal to get the job done.

By the time the last of the staff left the premises it was 2am. I was crashing but did my best to hide until finally escorting the last of the caterers out of the back door. I walked back inside the kitchen to find Miranda staring aimlessly at the window with her hands on the kitchen counter next to a cup of tea that was brewing next to her. She appeared quite fragile and vulnerable. My body reacted again and I was overwhelmed with a desire to put my arms around her in comfort. It was painful to breathe.

My body took control and I stood next to her, placing a hand on her back. It was the first time I ever touched her deliberately, but this weekend it was time to cross a few barriers. Miranda stiffened and turned her head to meet my eyes and I asked, "hey…are you okay?" She nodded quickly and turned her body towards mine, escaping from my touch. "I'm fine, Andrea, and you?" Despite my desire to reach out again I backed off quickly and helped myself to a large glass of water to prolong the time alone with her.

We stood there in silence while Miranda separated her loose tea from her mug, and moved around me to deposit the tea in the disposal. I couldn't handle the silence. My heart was pounding once again. I put down my water, glanced to her left, and focused on innocent conversation, "everybody had an amazing time Miranda. It was really fantastic." The editor's pleading eyes met mine, and with a nod and a tired expression replied, "well at least that's out of the way. The girls and I can have a relaxing day together tomorrow. Just seems the time passes too quickly. Did they have a nice time at the movies" Miranda asked me seemingly wishing for a positive response. I couldn't help myself upon seeing the desperation in the woman, and placed my hand on top of hers that rested on the kitchen counter. "Miranda, they had a great time. They seem incredibly happy. They love you more than anything, and they know how hard you work for Runway and to make time for them." Miranda searched my face for the truth, but I let her see everything I believed. She flipped her hand that was underneath mine and as I attempted to pull it back she grasped it quickly and held my hand in hers.

I lost it. I forgot how to breathe. I was frozen. Half of me was compelled to grab the woman and kiss her but the other half felt her need for comfort. I could be a friend. I could control myself and be what she needed. I could be whatever she needed. My eyes were going back and forth between our joined hands and her face. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move.

Our hands were being moved down off of the counter and down by our sides. My body was suddenly inches from Miranda's and I could feel the heat that was building between the two of us. She was staring at me. This was not the lethal gaze I knew could exist, but instead something entirely different. She looked almost unsure. It was as if a lightbulb went off in my head. Maybe she wanted this as well, but she could not possibly make the first move. It was up to me to take a chance. I would start small.

My free hand rose slowly and my thumb was grazing her cheekbone, before my hand rubbed down her neck, and collarbone and all the way down her left arm until joining our free hands together. I stepped closer. She continued to wait patiently. She was impossible, giving nothing away for free. Once again I took another step. I released her right hand, and moved her errant bangs off of her face, managing to swipe my fingers through her hair until my hand was on the back side of her neck. I guided her towards me, and when our lips met she took over with a smile.

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

**Hi Everybody. Maybe this is self explanatory but let me also say I love reviews, feedback, guidance. I'm a new writer and would love to know what you think, how you feel, and most importantly what you would like to read! Thank you for your support!**

I'm dreaming once again and it's incredibly vivid. This one is extremely graphic, even more so than others of late. I'm barely awake, rising out of a peaceful slumber to find myself lying in an unfamiliar bed with Miranda Priestly staring her way up my body from where she is currently busying herself with her mouth around my…holy fucking hell. This is real. She just smirked at me and oh my fucking god that feels incredible. My body seems to be arching uncontrollably off the bed now because she's holding my knees apart and has her mouth fastened to the most sensitive nub of flesh on my body. Images of the past few hours flash through my mind it sparks an even greater need. I bend my neck to verify once again that this is really happening, and she smirks as she sucks once again and then it's the end. I practically choke down a scream she pushes against me even harder and then she follows over the edge keeping her tongue pressed against me the entire time. My chest heaves as I catch my breath, and I watch Miranda kiss her way up my stomach and chest. I force my arms to respond, and put a hand on either side of her head to kiss her lethal mouth. I can taste myself, and it is overwhelming. Within a heartbeat I flip her over with a renewed determination to exceed her expectations.

Last night was real. I can't get over it. It was in fact only a few hours ago and the details are on the forefront of my mind. We never made it to the bedroom when it first started. I kissed Miranda, and then she kissed me. She was at first hesitant and gentle, but when our fear turned to passion it was wild and out of control. My body responded to her like it had none other, and again I hardly recognized myself. I will never forget the site of Miranda Priestly, writhing beneath my mouth on the kitchen counter where I had placed her with all of my strength. She was half clothed as there was no time, holding herself up, face flushed, head back, screaming my name as she came. It set me off as well and I pulled her down from the counter into a heap with me on the floor before we moved to a more comfortable setting. I remembered this now as I worked once again to make her lose control. Within minutes I reached my goal.

Miranda somehow found the strength to pull me up, and she kissed me leisurely. When she finally ended it she rolled my weight off of her body keeping her hand on my hip, and it was as if an entirely new person was looking at me. I hardly recognized her, because right now she was holding nothing back. She kissed me gently again before saying, "good morning." I smiled back, and just seeing the gentle look in her eyes I couldn't help but get emotional.

"This is real" I hear myself utter under my breath. I'm playing with her hair now because I cannot help but take advantage of the fact that I'm allowed to touch her. Sliding my knee between her leg and pulling her hips closer to me I kiss her once again, and in an instant my need returns. I've never felt such a desire for someone before and it's almost immediate desperation. I feel her pulling back but fight it until she wins and she separates our bodies.

"Darling, the girls will be up soon and I hardly think they should find us like this." She's right of course but I go in for one more kiss, as for all I know this is my last chance. She grants me the kiss but it's shorter than I would like. She slaps me on the ass playfully but I can't respond in kind as she starts to get up off of the bed. I'm paralyzed with the fear that it all ends here, and my eyes water. Miranda sees this as she tells me something about going to shower, and promptly turns around.

"Andrea," I hear but can't respond. "Andrea, what's wrong? You don't want this," she looks at me and I see a bit of anger flaring up inside her as if she's thinking that I'm thinking I made a mistake. I have to fix this. "Miranda," I can hardly look at her and as the tears begin to pour down my cheeks shocking even myself while I release six months of suppressed emotion. I spit out, "I don't want this to end. I've been dreaming about this…I mean, this is all I dream about, all the time, and I'm still not even sure this is real." Her expression shifts, and it's my Miranda looking at me once again and stroking my hair, and kissing my forehead, and my eyes that are still watering. She wipes the tears off of my cheek and kisses me so gently I can barely believe it's possible coming from her lethal mouth. "Andrea, you're not alone in that. This…," she holds my hand in hers "has been developing for quite some time, and it seems clear now that we both felt it. Somehow, when I am with you everything just feels right, and when you leave…," she doesn't finish and starts to look down. I grab her and pull her to me in an embrace with all the strength I have. I make her a promise that I want to keep now that I understand that she understands. "I won't leave again, Miranda. I almost made that mistake once and it tore me apart. If you'll have me I'm not leaving." And at that declaration I feel her relax into the embrace, and I kiss her neck to confirm my feelings. She sighs but says nothing, and I know I had a long road ahead of me to make her trust me. She has been burned one too many times. After a minute we find a way to separate, say our goodbyes for now, and I make my way upstairs to begin the day. My head is spinning with emotion, but the day is looking up.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

_**To all of my DWP Friends: I truly appreciate the reviews, and I must say that they do inspire me to continue. Please take this as it is. I intend to write more, but as I am not a planner I cannot say for sure, for now. Thank you for dealing with me in my indecisiveness. **_

I can hardly help but roll my eyes at the imbicile from Hermes on the other end of the phone. He must be new as I have never spoken to him before. At the last second he cancelled his morning appointment with Miranda claiming he was ill, and now expects me to fit him in this afternoon. I'm trying with all my patience to explain to him the procedure here, and why this in fact will not be possible. Heather, who finally graduated from Emily to her real name, is overhearing my end of the conversation from her desk opposite me. Fortunately, she is eager to learn and is better than my first choice of a new Emily who barely lasted three weeks.

Francois, is the designer's name from Hermes. He seems to think that Miranda will be at his beck and call, and alter her schedule simply because he is in town from France. He must be kidding himself. Even if he was the Prime Minister of France he would have to schedule an appointment to see Miranda. Regardless, she will be out this afternoon, which he will never know, taking the girls to their grandmother's. I tell him the earliest he will have a chance to see her is tomorrow at 2pm, and I'm doing him a favor granting him that slot. He swears at me in French, which I understand perfectly of course, and then proceeds to hang up on me. I tell Heather what just occurred, and have a laugh about yet another arrogant Frenchman who thinks he can bully a woman, particularly an assistant. Ha!

An hour later I get a call from one of the vice presidents of sales from the US office of Hermes, which is intercepted by Heather but she asks for me and not Miranda. Within seconds Heather transfers me the call, and I'm being apologized to profusely by a woman I met in Paris at the shows. She begs me to put Francois on the schedule for tomorrow even though he fucked up and cancelled this morning. As I'm considering my response I hear Miranda's voice carry from her office. She had heard Heather mention who is calling. She demands that I transfer the call to her phone. I tell Eileen to hold, and put her through.

I hear Miranda greet the VP with the sweetest, fakest voice she can manage. She doesn't let the woman say a word, and tells her to pass a message onto Francois that is in fact a directive to the entire management of Hermes. Miranda makes it clear that next time she is in Paris she will consider having one of her assistants meet with their designer, but in the meanwhile he may want to brush up on his English and French. She says specifically to the woman, "You see Eileen, Andrea is ever so meticulous when it comes to details. She wanted to make sure she understood everything Francois said so she wrote it down for me, at least that what she could make out with his strong accent. I would read it to you Eileen, but what she heard…well…it must be incorrect because no professional," she emphasized this to be clear, "would ever dare say such things during the course of business, and certainly not to anyone in my employ if they expected to do business with Runway." She threw on the sarcasm to finish, "I would advise an English course prior to having him represent Hermes in the US in the future to avoid any confusion…that's all."

I sit back with a smile, and shake my head laughing to myself. Heather is wide eyed at all that has transpired. She thinks I'm a rock star, as she's only been here a few months and is still easily impressed. She has to learn that Miranda answers to nobody, and Miranda's schedule bends only to Miranda, not the other way around. It is the most important task of Miranda's assistant to protect her time, as it is her most valuable asset. That was the only way to keep this ship floating, without constantly having to bail water off of the deck. It was the assistant's job to ensure that Miranda had every opportunity to focus on the most important issues, and on the most important people. If Heather could learn to do that well then she would thrive in this position.

As if on cue Nigel arrives by my desk, tilting his forehead as I'm still giggling. "Siiiiiiixxxxx?" I give him a nod that Miranda is in fact free. He is the only person besides myself actually, who could walk into Miranda's office without notice as long as the door is open.

On the way in he pauses. He leans back and places two fingers on the edge of my desk, turning his head to look back at me said in a low voice, "you can thank me for this later." He then winks at me and walks into Miranda's office, closing the door behind him.

It's been two months since that day in the Hamptons and Miranda and I are going strong aside from the lack of actual time that we spend together outside of Runway. Miranda's divorce went through months ago, before we got together even, but she is nowhere near ready to tell the twins about us. It's too soon. This is too new. There are just too many complications right now to go there.

What we have though seems more real than I ever could have imagined. The first month I tried to protect myself, thinking there was a good chance Miranda would have me a few times for the thrill of it and toss me away. Now, knowing her better I am embarrassed that I even thought that about her. Frankly, it was probably pointless anyway thinking I was protecting myself because I'm over the edge. I was in too deep even before it started.

Sometimes, despite my fifty shades of Miranda, I feel she's even more attached than I am. While I wear my heart on my sleeve, she guards hers in a vault. Despite that she manages to find a way every single day to show me that she's thinking about me. She is about a hundred times more affectionate than I could have dreamed, and I take advantage of it at every opportunity. We are both adamant about being professional and would never dare go near each other at Runway, the lines are very clear, but otherwise when we are together we are lovers. I have the privilege of spending time with the loving, caring, human who is normally disguised behind the Editor's persona.

It's funny actually because she told me that very first Sunday in the Hamptons that she had wanted to take things slowly with all of the flux of the past year, and while I am still her assistant. Miranda had originally planned to wait until I moved on from Runway to explore whether or not her feelings were reciprocated, but when I made the first move in her kitchen she gave in. Nobody had ever been brave enough to touch her, and apparently it was then that she knew. When I think of the numerous times over the past two months that we have discussed our tales of longing, I can't help but smile knowing I was not alone. I'm caught in yet another daydream of that moment when Nigel comes bursting through Miranda's door, and I catch her looking at me through the reflection of the glass as he's leaving. He struts away with a knowing smile on his face, and I can only imagine what he's up to now. I'm just happy that he and Miranda have made peace with each other over the past few months, and aside from lying to him about our relationship he and Miranda are friends once again.

That night Miranda and I have dinner together at the townhouse. It's convenient that I waited for the book, and she had a meeting until late anyhow. Her housekeeper Barbara, and older women in her sixties who has been working for Miranda for more than ten years prepared a meal for us. I walk into the Townhouse, take off my shoes, and leave my bag by the door. I carry the book with me and make my way to the kitchen to find Miranda sitting at the island on a stool in front of her computer with two place settings ready and waiting for us. There is a candle between them and a bottle of wine next to Miranda that she has already started on. She looks up and pushes her computer to the side standing to come and greet me. I almost drop the book as she takes me into her arms for a passionate kiss which seems to continue longer than I had hoped for.

"I've been waiting for this all day," she says to me and I melt once again and can't help but moan in agreement. The kiss ends too soon as I step away for a moment to put the book down, but now that my hands are free I grab her with two hands pulling her body into mine. I kiss her again to show her that I feel exactly the same way, and after another minute we separate and she pours me a glass of wine as we sit to eat. I take the glass from her and take the time finally to really look at her, which I am never comfortable doing at Runway for fear that someone will notice. She allows me this moment as I've told her how it makes me feel and after a second I breathe out and finally say, "hi." We're sitting now and she kisses me again giving a little laugh but I know she likes it.

We fill our plates from the serving dishes, share a few laughs over Francois, and after a few minutes she hits me with a serious, "Andrea, we have something to discuss." Apparently Nigel's visit today had been about me, and my future with Runway. I'm shocked but excited to hear that one of the junior editors was just poached by another publication, and a slot opened up that Nigel though was a good opportunity for me. Leave it to Nigel to be looking out for my well-being. He has always been a good friend, and if not for Nigel I would have never survived the first month let alone over a year now.

Miranda admits to me that she was originally pushing me out the door, particularly when trying to introduce me to other editors, but it was due to her own self-interest. She figured that once I was out of Runway, I was fair game to pursue. During this entire conversation I am in an alternate reality where I am in fact a desirable partner for Miranda Priestly, but I try to set aside this insecurity to focus on what she's saying.

Now she is torn. She tells me I have a lot of potential and I'm a good employee for Runway, but she had imagined I would go elsewhere if we ever got together. The new position would put some distance between us at Runway though which was better. In terms of my future she had to admit it was a great opportunity to move up the ladder quicker than I would by going elsewhere in an entry level position. Shaking her head at herself she tells me that despite the fact it is not ideal for our personal lives, it is the best for me professionally and I should take the job when she allows Nigel to offer it to me. She then asks me what I think about all of it and my mind spins.

I had initially entered Fashion as a fluke. It was that or Auto-Universe, but now it seems I have an opportunity to start a career using Fashion as my launch pad. The idea of working for Runway, even in an entry level position brings me a thrill. It means that Miranda believes I am a capable writer and editor. Runway means the world to her and she would never compromise the magazine for anything. That I know for sure and just knowing she thinks I am capable of this job gives me a flash of confidence.

By the next morning we have decided together that I am going to take the job. We are both fine concealing our relationship for the time being for many reasons, and it makes sense as the next step. Miranda tells me she will miss me as her assistant, but I promise her in return that she can always text me and her coffee will arrive scalding hot in less than eight minutes. I tell her that I will always want to take care of her. I hope she believes me, but I know I still have a long way to go before that sinks in.

As I emerge from Miranda's shower I laugh at how much my life has changed in the past two months. I wrap my hair in a towel and go to grab my bag from downstairs where I left it but Miranda has already laid out clothing on the bed for me. Figures she would have something prepared, just as she hides my spare toothbrush in her bottom drawer. I have to smile at how nice it is on these days when the twins are away and I can stay overnight to imagine life with her and how great it could be if this lasts. My daydream lasts as I dry my hair and make my way downstairs in the new clothes that emerged from some closet somewhere. I walk into the kitchen and find Miranda drinking a hot cup of coffee, probably the third since the one I brought her when we first woke up this morning. I move her hair off of her neck to touch it with my lips, and thank her for the lovely suit. "Yes, well I thought you should look the part this morning when Nigel steals you away from me. For all I knew you brought along some off the rack skirt from, what was that Emily said, the Hideous Skirt Convention was it" Miranda smirks at me and I can't help but start laughing and I put my arms around her. I tell her in my most sarcastic voice, "thanks cupcake, sometimes I'm not sure how I ever survived without you." She grabs my behind and squeezes and as I start to jump she grabs me, kisses me, and I'm lost in the taste that is coffee and Miranda. Sometimes life just can't get any better.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

_**Well...more! I think I am addicted to my computer. **_

I awake to the sound of my phone buzzing next to me. It's Saturday morning and I'm attempting to finally sleep in for once. I cannot imagine who is possibly calling my phone at this hour aside from the woman next to me. "Ungh, Andrea, make it stop," says Miranda who rolls over into my arms and pulls the comforter up over her head cuddling into the space between my shoulder and neck. I kiss the top of her head, and reach with my free arm to grab at the phone, checking the screen for the caller id.

"Oh god, it's my parents again. I should take this." They had called twice last night when we were otherwise engaged and I neglected to call them back. I skipped going home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, saying that I was in a new position and needed to prove myself and couldn't leave. In hindsight it was not the nicest thing to do, and I do miss them as the last time I saw them was for three days last July when I went back to Ohio. If I'm being honest with myself though it wasn't the job that kept me in New York for the holidays as I could have taken two days off. It just didn't feel right missing the first Christmas with Miranda and the girls, or the first New Years. I promise myself right now that I will take a weekend back in Ohio soon.

I answer the phone forcing the words "good morning mom," out of my mouth. "Andy, hi sweetie. Your father and I have a surprise for you…" I'm momentarily curious, but know that at this hour I'm unprepared to hear the surprise. "What's up mom" I try to respond as cheerily as possible.

"Andy, we just arrived at LaGuardia on the morning flight, and we'll be at your building in about twenty minutes." My heart palpitates and I feel like a teenager who has suddenly been caught sneaking out or something like that. I cannot help my reaction and practically scream into the phone while Miranda lifts her head to see what is going on. "What? Mom, wait…you guys are here in New York? Wait, how…" I look at Miranda who is now equally as awake as I am, and we are both at a loss for words.

"Andy, you don't sound excited. Your father and I thought you would be happy to see us now that you no longer work directly for Miranda. Does she still have you working around the clock?" I need to defend what I'm hearing because I'm afraid Miranda can hear it as well since she is so close to the phone. "Mom, no, it's great and yes I have more time," I say not entirely honestly as I work late nights and weekends as well, "so yah, that's great. Uhhh…how soon are you going to be at my place?"

I hear my father ask the taxi driver who says since there is no traffic they will be there within minutes. "Fantastic,"...I tell my mother. "I can't wait to see you guys," I respond as I jump out of the bed as if it's on fire. Of course my parents should know by now that I don't always necessarily sleep at home, but I don't want there to be any questions yet about who I may be not sleeping at home with.

I did my best to apologize to Miranda before running out of the house, but the girls were already awake and in the kitchen and I was not able to say a proper goodbye. They're just getting used to having me around, and frankly I know they like having me around, but I'm still trying to make the best impression. Today I failed miserably.

Miranda and I have only briefly discussed telling people about us, aside from the kids and their father. James was unhappy to say the least, but given his current relationship with a woman twenty years younger he could hardly criticize. When it came to my parents I figured I would wait until the time was right. I'm not sure when and if the time will ever be right for my father though, because the last time he was here he got a rather terrible impression of Miranda. Damn fucking hurricane.

I grab a cab and I'm back at my apartment before my parents arrive, but I cannot imagine what it will look like when I get in there. It has been since before Christmas, and Paris, that I have been practically living at the Townhouse, and for all I know my heat isn't even on. It's almost the end of February so that can be problematic.

When my parents arrive, we say our hellos. I take their bags and then quickly usher them out of the apartment with the suggestion of breakfast. The happily agree, and think it's a great idea anyhow until they check into their midtown hotel later in the day. We spend the next few hours catching up, and I'm reminded of how nice it is to have them around. It hurts to have to lie to them about such a big part of my life, but for now it's probably for the best.

While we are out and about during the day I send Miranda a lengthy text apology for the way I left this morning, and I get nothing back. A half hour later I send her a second text, and there is still nothing. I know I am in trouble but cannot address it at this very moment. As the minutes pass I get more and more nervous which my parents ask me about, and I excuse myself just saying that breakfast did not agree with me. In the bathroom I try to call Miranda, and after two rings she sends me to voicemail. I remind myself not to enter a full blown panic, but knowing that she is upset with me literally sickens me. Later when I drop my parents off at their hotel, I will try to make it up to her. She has a dinner this evening with Nigel, and a few industry "friends." Even before my parents surprised me we had made separate plans. The girls were staying at a friend's place, so they wouldn't be home either.

My parents apparently planned ahead, and before I know it I'm being dragged to see yet another Broadway show. They planned this on my behalf as I loved musicals as a child, but I'm so uncomfortable because of Miranda that I find it difficult to sit still. My mind is elsewhere, and by the time the show lets out I'm ready to sprint out of the theatre. My parent's hotel is literally next door, and I'm able to thank them and leave them right after the curtain drops. I run to find the nearest taxi, and yell at the address to the driver asking him to hurry. For all I know Miranda isn't even home yet, but I want to beat her there if possible.

Just to avoid any potential problems with exposure, I've learned to use the backdoor to the Townhouse off of a private alleyway. I have the key to the gate, and then to the house, to ensure that I never run into an assistant or photographer wishing to profit off of Miranda's personal life. As I walk through the kitchen I hear Miranda on the phone with someone, and just knowing I can at least talk to her brings me immediate peace. I follow the sound of her voice which sounds a bit tipsy and is surprisingly coming from the study. That is odd for a Saturday evening, as she'd normally be in the twin's lair with a movie by now, or the bedroom. She never looks at the Book on Saturday evenings.

I take a deep breath as I walk in preparing myself for just about anything. Miranda stops talking and just looking at her I can tell she's good and drunk and I hope that's not because of me. She's sitting on the couch which is unusual as well and I walk over to her as she just stares at me in silence. I ask her to "please say something, Miranda" and I get nothing in return. She's turning bright red now and with true concern I kneel in front of her and take her hands and beg her again to talk to me. It's right about now that I realize there is in fact no cell phone anywhere near her, and at the same time I hear an "ahem" from the corner behind me. I slowly turn, and Nigel is staring at me with a look as scary as the one I'm getting from Miranda. I pull myself off of the floor and still holding Miranda's hand I sit next to her. I look at Nigel, and back to Miranda and realize he's going to have to wait.

"Miranda, please listen to me. I'm sorry I ran out this morning but I panicked. All I could think about the entire day was you. We've been living in a bubble but we don't have to. I love you more than I ever could imagine loving anybody, and I'm ready to tell anyone and everyone. It doesn't matter in the end what anybody thinks, as long as I have you and you have me. Please believe me."

I know she's well and truly drunk because even with Nigel in the same room, my Miranda appears. Her hands that I'm holding in mine are shaking. She looks like she is in pain. "Please sweetie, please tell me what's wrong," I plead with her.

With tears in her eyes she whispers to me. "I thought for sure I was going to lose you. That you would realize how crazy this is, choosing to stay with me. And I would have to let you go, because I love you and I want you to be happy." She pauses to take a breath before continuing with a shaky voice, "but it will kill me Andrea. I've never had this before, and I don't want to lose you." At this she looks down and squeezes my hands and I release them to wrap my arms around her. I whisper in her ear that I promise I am not going anywhere because it would break me, and she hugs me even more tightly than I hug her. After a minute I lean backwards to look at her again. "Are we okay," I ask, and after a moment she nods. I pull her up off of the couch. "Come on. Let me put you to bed," I say as I lead her towards the door. She stops in the doorway to bid goodnight to Nigel, and he nods but remains seated. I tell him I'll be back down in a few.

Upstairs Miranda tells me that she tried to send Nigel away, but he refused to leave her in her current state after escorting her home until he knew she was okay. In the morning she may feel differently but right now she keeps repeating that "he's a good friend." I have never seen Miranda like this before, and I am glad Nigel stayed with her. I help Miranda through her nightly ritual, place a bottle of water beside the bed, and tuck her in with a kiss goodnight promising that I will join her shortly. She is out as soon as her head hits the pillow and I'm not even sure she heard me.

When I re-enter the study I'm carrying two glasses of Lagavulin. Nigel told me once this was his favorite whisky, and we happen to keep a bottle of it in the bar. While it would be nice if Miranda could share in this discussion, right now that is not an option. Technically, Nigel is my boss now and that makes this scenario even more uncomfortable.

After a tense half hour discussion I walk Nigel to the door and wish him a goodnight, thanking him for taking care of Miranda. All I could offer him was the truth and he will do with it what he chooses. He accepts that we were protecting ourselves by keeping a secret, but is hurt that his two friends had lied to him. I could do nothing but apologize, and ask that he try to see it from our perspectives. Had I left Runway we would have considered sharing the truth with him, but given that I stayed we were taking every precaution. He claimed he understood, even if he did not agree.

I text my parents about starting the next day a bit later than planned, and they are fine with that. Marching myself upstairs, I make a wish that Miranda and I will be okay tomorrow after all that has occurred. She is so fragile inside despite the steel exterior, and I fear her reaction once she is fully sober and has time to reflect. I will deal with it in the morning, and reassure her once again that we are stronger together than apart, and hope feels the same. I love her with all my heart and hope that tomorrow she'll wake up in my arms with no interruptions. I turn my phone off just in case.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

_**Hello All, I apologize in advance but I just needed to see a story to completion. It is short, but here it is...**_

"Mmmmm" I can do nothing but moan as I feel light kisses on the back of my neck pulling me from my peaceful slumber, as a warm body presses even closer to me. "It's Saturday, and it's too early Miranda. I just know it is." I sigh but cannot help myself but turn over to greet the love of my life, which is a sight I am all too happy to wake up for, even early on a Saturday morning.

"Good morning, beautiful," is all I can manage as I take in her smiling face, and adoring look as if she would rather not lay eyes on anything else in the world this morning than me. My heart yearns to have her understand that I feel exactly the same way. From the look she's giving me I think she does. I kiss her softly and withdraw running my fingertips through her hair and I try to make sense of the smile on her face.

"What?" I ask a bit confused because normally when Miranda wakes me up she is quite direct about what she wants. This is somehow different.

I watch as she continues to gaze at me. She sits up, and then reaches under her pillow and before me is a small box. I scoot up on the pillows with my back against the headboard looking at her, and I'm equally as speechless as she has been. Immediately my eyes tear up, and I can only hope that what I have dreamt about for the past year is actually happening, and that I am not still in fact asleep.

I wait patiently for what would come next, not daring to assume anything or speak and ruin this moment. My patience is rewarded moments later as Miranda begins.

"It has been one year, Andrea. A year ago today I realized I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. A year ago today I accepted the fact that I had found true love for the first time. I have waited one year, but I do not wish to wait any longer."

Miranda opens the box carefully, displaying it before me, and I can only follow her teary eyes to stare at a diamond solitaire surrounded by a bed of velvet in the box. I bring my gaze once again up to meet hers.

"Andrea, you have brought happiness to my life that I never believed I would experience. I want nothing more than to share the future with you for as long as you will allow me. Will you, Andrea Sachs, do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

I finally realize that I'm nodding and crying but have not yet responded, as Miranda is smiling a knowing smile just waiting for an answer. I can give her nothing more than "yes," and allow my body to answer any other questions there may be.

While I have been living in the townhouse for the past six months, it somehow never seemed permanent until today. After working for Nigel for half a year it made sense to move on from Runway, and move in with Miranda. Without him I would never have made it to Vanity Fair. In fact without him I would have never survived a week at Runway, and be where I am now. Miranda did not attend my send off, and people probably believe she doesn't even know I left. Nigel knows differently of course. I make a note to thank him as soon as possible, for everything.

Today of all days I sit down for breakfast and share my own inside joke at what an incredible turn of events my life has taken. Today confirms that all of it is actually real. Miranda and I have lived a very sheltered life for the last year, but it seems now that times will be changing.

The girls accepted us with enthusiasm when they finally figured out what was going on, and somehow this relationship, despite its secrecy when it came to the outside world had become our own version of normal. Now we are taking the next step. Miranda is leading the way and I am more than happy to follow. I cannot imagine being happier and feeling more love than I feel now for my new family.

I'm rolling my ring around on my finger with a stupid grin on my face but I can't help myself. Miranda and the girls are making omelets, and I'm waiting happily at the kitchen island to be served. All three of them were in on the secret, and this is the celebration breakfast. Caroline places an omelet with bacon and cheddar cheese in front of me, giving me a look that only a Priestly child could manage. "Andy, only you could get mom to make bacon," she laughs as gives me a quick hug after dropping off the plate. Miranda flips an omelet while Cassidy watches beside her, and then turns to check on me. I receive what is known to be a Miranda like glare as I finally realize she wants me to test her creation. I quickly stab a forkful of the steaming eggs in front of me, blow, and hmmm in pleasure as I take the first bite. She smiles and goes back to her work, and I giggle and chew with gusto.

Miranda and the girls and I spend Sunday together taking in the best of Manhattan. We have brunch at Pastis, and leisurely walk the streets in the Village for the rest of the afternoon. The girls entertain themselves while we discuss coming out to the rest of the world as it is and the implications. I assure Miranda that I am ready to take on whatever stands in our way, and I proudly wear the ring on my finger that is marking me hers.

Monday morning I text my boss that I'm taking a personal day. Miranda leaves for the office at 8am, but not before laying out an outfit for me and kissing me good bye. She will see me later she says, and reminds me to be on time.

When I enter the lobby at Elias Clarke I find visitors pass waiting in my name at the front desk. I take it and wish hello to the security guards who I have missed over the past six months. They recognize me immediately and greet me with well wishes. They too seem to appreciate the Chanel that Miranda has chosen for me. She knows I love Chanel.

As I open the doors to Runway I run immediately into Emily who is clearly in a panic. "Hey Em," I utter as she looks up in shock upon noticing me. "Andrea, how nice to see you," she says with sarcasm. We have been out a few times for drinks with the old crew since I left Runway, but not in the past two months. "I would love to chat but the staff meeting is in, well, actually I'm already late." She turns and practically runs the other direction in her four inch heels, grabbing Serena on the way. I follow behind and can only imagine Emily's reaction to what will take place shortly.

I walk into the conference room where Miranda is now seated with her back to me. The more senior staff are seated around the conference table, and a few others linger against the walls for the Monday meeting. My entrance interrupts something Miranda was saying as all eyes turn towards me in disbelief when I make my way into the room. Nigel who is at the other end of the conference table is the first to acknowledge me. "Six," he says in loud greeting, his eyes back and forth between myself and Miranda. Emily and the other staffers appear shocked that I would consider interrupting a meeting, and all eyes turn to Miranda now in anticipation of her reaction. "To what do we owe the pleasure…?" Nigel smiles widely knowing there must be something up.

"Hey Nige, I just stopped in to say hello to everyone." I say looking around at the familiar faces at the table. Emily appears as if she is ready to jump up and pull me out of the room any minute now. Nigel is already out of his seat and comes to give me a big hug, as Miranda watches silently. I step closer to Nigel and put my arms around him. Emily does not disappoint, as I splay my fingers widely on Nigel's back during the embrace. I hear her shocked intake of breath. "Andrea, did you get engaged" she dares to ask and then remembers she is in the presence of Miranda, and shrinks into her seat preparing for the wrath.

I release Nigel, who takes my left hand in his, admires the ring, nods at me and then kisses my cheek. He shakes his head and laughs and returns to his seat. I look at Emily, but force myself not to look at Miranda for fear that my eyes will tear and that is not what I had wanted for today. "I did Em, just this past weekend," I say, and everybody starts in on congratulations. They shower me with questions that I leave unanswered.

"Thanks everybody," I say quickly. "That's really why I wanted to come and share the news."

Realizing once again how odd this was, they quickly quieted down and awaited Miranda's response. It was still a staff meeting, and I no longer worked at Runway, and was clearly out of place.

I turned to look at Miranda, who had remained silent during this show. This had been her idea from the start, but by the look on her face she appeared to be having second thoughts. My eyes meet hers and the corners of her mouth turn upwards and I know it's all going to be okay. She stands and the room goes almost silent. "Congratulations Andrea," Miranda says and everyone seems to let out a breath. She walks towards me and takes my hand in hers to get a look at the ring on my finger.

"It's beautiful isn't it," I can't help but whisper. Her head tilts upwards and our eyes meet. I'm lost in her once again as this is yet another declaration of our commitment. "Yes, my darling. It was I who chose it after all." She cups my cheek as she continues. "The ring is beautiful, but its beauty is nothing by comparison to the woman wearing it." With that public declaration I figure it is now acceptable to kiss her and I do almost forgetting where we are until the silence is broken by multiple gasps and yelps. By the time we separate Nigel is clapping, and the others can hardly help but join and impart congratulations, aside from Emily who looks stunned into silence. I give one last chaste kiss to Miranda, who walks me out of the room, instructing her staff to carry on without her presence. We can hear them all the way to the elevators, clearly not discussing Runway.

"That went well," I say as Miranda presses the button to summon an elevator. "Are you okay?" I ask worried that she seems quieter than normal. She takes my hand in hers one last time and admires the ring on my finger. With one finger under her chin I lift her gaze to meet mine. "I am more than okay, Andrea. For the first time in my life I am much, much more than okay." I understand what she is telling me and cannot help but take her in my arms, placing a kiss on the side of her neck above her blouse. "I love you, Miranda. Forever," I promise and with that she relaxes into the embrace. "I love you, too Andrea. Never forget that," she says as she lightens the mood by patting me on the butt. "Now go. I need to get back to the meeting before someone in that room calls the Post. I'm sure it will be in the news this week but let's savor the last few moments of peace, shall we" she asks with a longing look in her eyes.

The elevator pings and opens forcing us to separate. We part ways with our hands attached until the last second. She watches me as the doors close and I cannot help but beam a smile at her that I hope reflects just how happy she makes me. I lean back against the railing of the elevator realizing today is the first day of the rest of my life. First stop Runway and next stop the world.


End file.
